A Ranger's Wrath
by Angelo Lakey
Summary: Everyone knows of the Courier's life after getting shot in the head,but what about his life before getting shot in the head.What if her really was a Ranger turned Courier.Stepping out of the frying pan into the fire known as Ranger training.Get Ready!
1. Chapter 1 Prologue part 1

**A/N: [****Insert basic Author's note to avoid Copyright infringement****]**

**Prologue**

Date: August 12, 2277

Location: Camp McCarran, New Vegas

It was all quiet in the barracks as I rose from my bunk.

This was finally it. The day I had been anticipating for three weeks. I quickly went to the showers, realizing this would be my last time showering at McCarran for some time. I tried to not let it bother me none as I grabbed what little belongings I had and tossed them into the olive drab duffle every NCR soldier receives upon enlistment.

After dressing myself in the standard fatigues, I throw the duffle bag over my shoulder and begin to make my way out when I hear what sounds like a low moan. I turn to see my friend, Corporal Naomi Gilbert, slowly waking up. Her face looks tired and groggy from an apparent rude awakening. I drop my bag and walk over to her bed. As I sit down on the bed next to her she pulls herself upright and begins to yawn.

"Hey," I start, "why don't you head on back to sleep". "Are you deserting" she asks with a hint of worry in her voice. I take her hands into mine and kiss her palms. "No, I'm just going to experience something new," I say, wiping away a tear beginning to roll down her cheek, "but you will see me again in at least two years top, I swear". I then leaned in close and kissed her on the lips.

She began to lie back down and I draped her in the itchy wool blanket that is considered standard in the NCR army. I walk over to the door and grab my bag. I turn back to take in the scene. I usher out a quaint, little "Farewell" as I closed the door.

The rest of the walk to the front gates was barely interrupted. I had hoped that no one I knew would stop me and ask where I was off to, luckily I only ran into one person while exiting the concourse. "Where you off to" the voice asked. By the sound of it, it was exactly who I didn't want to run into. "Hey Farber" I said slowly walking away. As I tried to walk a little faster to the Terminal doors, I hear the sound of his footsteps growing louder. "SO," Farber said, completely annoyed by the fact I was walking away. "What's in the bag"?

Now he's poking at my duffle, clearly trying to annoy me long enough to get an answer. "Just some things" I say trying to navigate my way past him.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry" he asked. Letting out a huff, showing how annoyed I am. "If you must know," I start. "I'm off for my Ranger training".

As I turn to look at him I see the expression on his face…priceless! "No fucking way" he's totally jealous. I then brush my way past him and exit the concourse, as I sneak a look as the doors close I see him with that same expression frozen on his face.

The walk to the entrance to the terminal building was quicker than expected. Lt. Boyd had given me a strong salute as I walked closer to the immobile escalators. Me being the good soldier I am instantly stopped walking and saluted back to her.

"At ease soldier" she said closing the distance between us. "Heard you going to be working with the rangers for now on".

Still standing at attention, I give a short nod. She looks me up and down and stretches her arm towards me, gesturing for me to give her something. Instantly knowing what she wants I give her the small note. She looks it up and down and gives me a nod. "Anyone in particular you want this to go to," she pauses for a second.

Looking me in the eyes now she clears her throat and begins to speak again. "If you happen to bite the dust". Realizing I haven't said a word, I clear my throat and look up at her.

"If you can, could you send it to my family in Junktown, my sister at the Hub," I say with a smug look on my face. "My middle brother Jake in San Francisco or my older brother Declan in New Reno, he's a made man in the Bishop family, so it shouldn't too be hard to find him".

She nodded as she wrote on the back of the note the possible inheritors of my death note. She nodded and began to walk back to her office. I began to step down the immobile escalators to Colonel Reed's office.

As I entered his office, a young officer on his way out bumped into me. "Excuse me" he ushered. He stuck out his hand into my face, waiting for me to take it in my own. "Lt. Colonel James Hsu" he started. "I just got transferred here from Intelligence".

I looked him up and down then shook his hand, a small smile forming on my lips. "Sergeant Eli Clarke" I say, introducing myself.

"Where you off to" he asked. "Your tour is up".

"Nah" I say, shaking my head. "I was accepted by the Rangers".

He then gave me a curt nod in acceptance as he let his hand fall out of mines. "Is that right".

"Yeah, took me some time, but now I'm going to be achieving my dream". He gave me a light punch on the shoulder. "Well good luck to you then". He then walked off towards the escalators.

I then remembered what I was doing and entered the Colonel's office. "So this day has finally come" he said. He turned and handed me a folder. I knew exactly what was in it. I grabbed it and tucked it under my left arm as I saluted him. He saluted back and turned back to his desk. "It was nice working under you sir" I said before I began to walk out his office. Before I could leave I felt his hand land on my shoulder. I turned to see the Colonel holding a cigar and an old pre-war lighter.

I took the cigar and pocketed it and closely examined the lighter. On one side was the NCR bear, most commonly seen on the NCR flag. On the other was the NCR Ranger symbol.

I exited his office and made for the doors out of the terminal building and began the long trek to the front gates of Camp McCarran. As I walked pass the 1st recon tent, I saw a familiar face staring me down. The man then took a sip from his steaming mug and retrieved his sunglasses from his coat. "Where you off to Clarke" the man asked.

I turned and shouted, "Heyya Boone, long time no see".

"You still haven't answered my question" he said with an angered look on his face. "Do I have to go all the way to New Reno just to have Declan force some answers out of you".

His face began to shatter as the angry look turned into a smile. I then ran up and embraced him in a hug. He pushed me off, holding me by the shoulders. "So where you off to kid". I pushed both his rough hands off my shoulders and adjusted my duffle more comfortably on my shoulder.

"I finally got accepted into the Rangers" I said with a smirk on my face.

"Well good for you kid" he said in reply.

Before I could say anything I realized a man was standing behind us. He lightly tapped my shoulder. As I turned around he forced a clipboard unto my face. "I need you to sign for this" he said.

He then forced his pencil into my hand. As I signed for the package I realized above all the paperwork was the infamous symbol of the Mojave Express, the only mail service in all of the Mojave, until you reach the old borderline where Nevada connected to California.

I then realized the huge package connected to his back by a thin rope. As I finished the paperwork he tossed the package on the ground in front of me. He then turned around and just like that left. I turned to Boone and gave him a slight shrug and then went to opening the package. As I opened it I saw there was a note. I picked it up and then began to read it.

_From: Declan Clarke, New Reno_

_To: Elijah "Eli" Clarke, Camp McCarran, New Vegas_

_Dear Brother,_

_It's been some time since either of us has sent each other a letter. I got the word that you will be transferred to the Rangers. Good job little brother. Jake and Patty send their regards. Momma, Nells, and the little ones hope you don't get into any trouble. Me on the other hand know that you won't get hurt, as long as you've got this kick ass weaponry I got from Eldridge over at New Reno Arms and a couple from that old spook in San Fran. What was his name? Mai Da Chiang or Mai Da Cheang. Anyways, enclosed are an old pre-war Ruger AC556F, you don't know how long it took Mai to find this; one of my Tommy Guns; an old Colt Model 1878 Double-barreled Shotgun, heard these are better than the old Widowmakers; dad's old rifle and a pre, pre-war revolver. I had them both refurbished by Elridge. He said dad's old weapon was a Winchester Model 1876 and the pre, pre-war one was a Colt 1851 Navy or something. Jake found the old revolver out prospecting the old Boneyards of Los Angeles. He said he found it in what looked like a pre-war museum about cowboys. The revolver has been converted to fire cartridge rounds specifically .38 ACP, Long Colt, and Special. The rifle, being a bigger bore, actually fires 45-70 Gov't. Also I left you some .38 special, .45, 5.56, and 45-70 Gov't and a sum of caps. This is two months work of caps from me. Momma wanted to leave you some, but I told her to keep it for her rent. It's around 10,000 caps bro, so keep your equipment maintained. Clean and tight, as dad would always say. Well, I hope this package reaches you before you leave brother. I've gotta go, the boss needs me to go give his mom, Ole Angela Bishop, some soup. Cya bro, hope to hear from you soon._

_Love, your brother_

_Declan Clarke_

I folded the note and placed it into one of the outside pockets on my denim jacket. I then moved the packing peanuts to be greeted by the site of three long barreled weapons and a revolver packed tight in it's cross draw holster. After moving the weapons I noticed the potato sack. Upon closer inspection I realized this was the bag of caps Declan mentioned. I tossed the caps into my duffle then buckled the holster around my waist.

"Boone, I'm going to be gone for some time" I started, lifting the crate of weapons. "So try not to get yourself killed and make sure Manny is always there to be your spotter" I said as I walked towards the front gates.

"He is the best spotter we know". With a sly smile on his face, Boone merely replied with a quick little "Okay". Privates Greene and Faraday, the front gates guards, then opened the aforementioned gates for me.

Sure enough, waiting in front of the gate for me was two NCR Rangers with their pack Brahmins, three Crimson Caravan guards, and eight other ranger recruits. I then walked over to the Brahmin and tied my crate down on the makeshift wagon, made from the trunk of an old Highwayman, the brahmin pulled. I then tossed my duffle onto the other duffels, which I guessed belonged to the other recruits. "Is that all" one of the rangers asked. I answered him with a short nod. The ranger then walked over to one of the caravan guards and told them to start the brahmin.

Our small pack walked for some 419 miles until we reached the outskirts of some pre-war city called Susanville. It seemed untouched by the clutches of the pre-war faction's war. No radiation, no indications of looters hitting the town, not even a group of raiders holed up in an intact building.

But there was one thing I noticed upon entering the city. All over the ground in the town were orange ripped sleeves and ripped torsos from orange jumpsuits. On the back of the torsos were the words HDSP. It wasn't until we reached the city's police department did we realize what it stood for.

Upon reaching the department the rangers told three of us recruits to go search the building for weapons and ammunition. When we entered the building us recruits decided to split up. I decided to take the first floor.


	2. Chapter 2 Prologue part 2

**A/N: [****Insert basic Author's note to avoid Copyright infringement****]**

The door creaked open as the life from outside overtook every nook and cranny of the first floor of the police department. Three forms seemed to block the sunlight as we entered the building. After signaling to one another, two of the forms left to search the other two floors. That one form stood there before ripping off the cap of a red stick. Standing there, I stroke the top of the cap against the red stick, igniting the room with the red glow of a flare. I then placed the cap at the bottom of the flare. Walking around the spacious room, Clarke, as I came to be known by my travelling cohorts, decided to head towards the basement.

Opening the door, I immediately tossed the flare to the bottom of the stairs. Whipping out the Colt Navy my brother got me, I began to slowly descend the stairs. Leveling the revolver towards the abyss being barely lit by the flare, hoping for nothing to surprise me and make a wrong decision of scaring the shit out of me.

Finally reaching the bottom of the stairs I bent down to reach the flare when I noticed the big letters spread across a door frame. **Sub-Level Armory**. I knew those words oh too well. Lifting the flare I made my way towards the door.

Sitting on the door was a small, simple padlock. Patting down my pockets, I realized I left my lock picks back in my duffle bag. Deciding not to go back I leveled my revolver at the padlock. The padlock seemed to explode as the .38 Long Colt bullet ejected itself from the casing and hit the lock, completely destroying the locking mechanism.

I removed the broken lock and tossed the flare into the middle of the Armory. My jaw seemed to drop to the floor as I noticed exactly what inhabited the gun racks and lockers. I went from rack to rack, shooting off all the locks. I then went to the last shelf and removed a couple of the shotguns off the rack labeled "shotguns". Realizing they were labeled, I read the tag on the barrel. **Mossberg 590 Mariner**. I then racked the shotgun to make sure everything was still working. It wouldn't have been the first time a shotgun broke on me for being faulty.

Setting the shotgun back onto the rack, I opened one of the lockers hoping to find a bag. Upon opening it I was flooded with the sight of ammunition boxes. Looking at the bottom of the locker I saw a bag. I began to fill the bag with the ammo in the locker. I then grabbed the other bag and began to put some of the weapons in the bag. After packing some of the weapons I realized I really wanted some of these. So I decided to pack away some weapons for himself.

I then got right down to business by stuffing my bags with two Smith & Wesson 4506-1's, one Glock 17L, a stainless steel 6" Colt Python, an 8" Colt Anaconda, surprisingly a Taurus Raging Judge Magnum chambered in .410 bore, a Remington 870 Field gun with a raised barrel, a Winchester Model 1897, and a Thompson Center Arms Contender.

Upon finishing, I put some extra rounds for the weapons I wanted into each bag. I then picked up the dying flare and began his long trek of bringing all the bags to the front door.

After finishing my task, I began to check every desk in the first floor offices. In some desks I found a couple of pre-war candy bars and .45 caliber ammunition. The most disturbing of things was when I found a piece of paper that had the letters HDSP adorned the top. Skimming the paper I began to realize what it stood for. HDSP or High Desert State Prison. I decided to bottle that information for until the Rangers needed to know.

After searching every desk, I made my way to a locker room. Searching the lockers I found some pretty great loot. Like a Tactical Modular Dual Pistol Shoulder Holster. I also found some old gear all labeled S.W.A.T., even some stainless steel Beretta92FS Inox's. I then popped another flare and began to make my way to the one room I hadn't checked…the Captain's office.

Opening the door I noticed what looked like the outline of a man in the office chair. I drew my Navy revolver, but realized I haven't reloaded it. I opened the loading gate and used the ejector rod to, as you guessed it, eject the spent rounds then reloaded it. "Don't be foolish kid" a voice whispered.

I noticed the figure in the chair was pointing a Browning Hi-Power 9mm handgun towards me. Me being the overconfident bastard I am, decided to not drop my weapon. "You better drop that hand cannon, boy" he shouted. "You tryin to test your luck, boy".

"I don't know, are you" I said with a sly grin. He flashed his teeth as he sneered. "You asked for it, chump". In that split second he rose from his chair and at the same time we fired the first round in our weapons. The 9mm round from his semi-automatic pistol lodged itself into my left should. The .38 LC round lodged itself into his skull. His eyes bugged upwards as he fell into the chair.

I walked over to the chair and searched the man's pockets. He didn't have much, but what few caps he had I pocketed. I then went on to search the desk. I had found something that intrigued him. Holding the object, I began to memorize things about it.

The feel of it, the weight of it, even the different words etched on each side of the gun. **LAR Grizzly** on one side and **Mark I** on the other. I had hit the jackpot coming here; this place being unopened increased the value of the still stainless steel weapons.

I then picked up the other accessories, a silencer, a barrel bushing compensator, and a couple extended mags. _'This Captain had great taste'._I then made my way back to the front door and joined the other recruits.

After showing the Rangers our spoils, we continued on with our journey. I had thought about telling the guides what I had learned about the acronyms on the jumpsuits, but instead suggested another route out of the town. While traversing the road i could tell we were being stalked. After crossing an overpass near the edge of town a group men wearing those same orange jumpsuits, jumped from every nook and cranny in the hills just to get close to us. We unloaded round after round into them while making a steadfast escape from an unwanted firefight. We exited the area with our new loot heading off towards Broken Hills.

We walked on until we reached the mining town. As we entered the town the Rangers made it their number one priority to get the rooms for our travelling group. The Rangers also told two recruits, luckily I wasn't one of them, to situate the brahmin and our gear into a local corral.

After getting enough rooms for themselves and us recruits, the two Rangers went off to the local bar. Once the two recruits finished their tedious task, they decided to have their last night of fun together before starting their training.

Whereas the other three recruits stayed in and got some extra sleep. I on the other hand decided to do some trading. Taking the bag of weapons I didn't want, I wandered the town looking for some place to shop. Asking a passerby, he pointed me to Doc Holliday's. I strolled in with a sense of swagger. Walking the sort of stride a man walks when he knows he's going to get paid.

After a long debate over receiving a discount because of our love of revolvers, I was able to sell most of the weapons, save for a couple Ithaca 37's,a Mossberg 930,some Mossberg 500 AT's, some Colt MK IV's, three HK MP5-PDW's,one PPK, and an old flare gun. While I was bartering with "Doc" Holliday I was able to get himself 15,000 more caps, an old brown duster and a wide brimmed high crowned hat(for insulation and shade when out in the wastes), and medical supplies(mostly Med-x and Stimpaks). I then made my way back to the hotel to get some much needed rest. I gave the Rangers the caps I raised and the leftover weapons and made my way to my room.

I woke up earlier than usual, even for me. I decided to use this time to clean my Colt Navy, Python, Anaconda, and Taurus Judge Magnum. I grabbed the few supplies I got off Doc Holiday and began to whip up a nice cleaning solvent and gun oil from Abraxo, flower, yeast, turpentine, water, and a few mushrooms.

I dipped an old bore brush I found into the solvent and began to feed it through the barrel of the Navy, twisting it as I followed the rifling of the barrel. While cleaning the barrel I took a tooth brush and cleaned the outside of the cylinder and the ejector rod with solvent. Finished with the barrel, I pushed the brush through each of the cylinders. Then I wiped the gun clean with gun oil and began the task of cleaning the other revolvers.

Later that day our group left Broken Hills on a straight shot for Redding. Redding, like Broken Hills, was a mining town. Though the miners at Broken Hills mined uranium deposits, miners in Redding mined for plenty of things ranging from gold, silver, and some even indicated finding coal ores.

As we entered the town the two Rangers, Wallace and Chadra, made sure our tickets were in order for catching the NCR's new steam train. It was definitely a modern marvel. Using some engineering techniques picked up from some Super Mutant's steam powered trucks, the NCR finally had a reliable source of travel between its major city-states. The Rangers chose two recruits to make sure our supplies and bags were on the train and ready for transport. Once again, I wasn't one of them.

While walking through the town I remembered that Declan had came here personally to get a contingent of implants to further better his performance as a Made Man. Seeing as how I had some extra caps and time leftover, I decided to get one.

Walking in to ole' Painless Doc Johnson's shop, I was kinda brought back by the sight of blood spread all across the Auto-Doc table. "What can I get for ya son" the old man asked. Trying to focus on Doc Johnson from the sight of blood, I realized the old surgeon must be at least 72 since Declan had came here about 20 years ago.

"Are you interested in an implant son or just some all natural, fine healing" he asked.

"I was wondering exactly what kind of implants you have" I started. "You see my brother had gotten a total bionic uplift from you a couple years back".

The old man rubbed the medium sized beard sprouting from his chin with a perplexed look on his face. "You're that feller Declan's brother".

"Yes sir" I said, subconsciously beginning to twiddle my fingers around waiting for the old fart's response.

He reaches down and picks up what looks like a battered clipboard and struggled as his wobbling hands tried to place his spectacles atop his eyes. Handing the clipboard to me, Doc Johnson began to list off some implants.

"There's the basic NEMEAN variety," he started. "ya know the Dermal Impact Armor, the Dermal Impact Assault, and the Sub-Dermal Armor".

He then began to pick away at something hidden in his beard. "If that doesn't interest you then might I interest you in some old PHOENIX implants" he asked. "I have the PHOENIX Armor implants, Armor Assault enhancements, and the Monocyte Breeder. And if you aren't interested in that I have some bodily implants I got shipped in from San Fran".

Like I have some old Hypertrophy Strength accelerators, Optics Enhancers, Logic Co-Processors, Reflex Boosters, Probability Calculators, Empathy Synthesizers, and an old Nociception Regulator". I read the clipboard up and down, trying to figure out how many I could get with the $35,000 caps in my possession.

After finally coming to a decision I told Doc Johnson what I wanted exactly. "I'd like the Reflex Booster and Optics Enhancer for the physical implants, then the Dermal and Sub-Dermal enhancements".

The Doctor grew a wicked grin as he realized how much pain I'd be in by the end of the day. "Please, step into my chop shop (cough cough) I mean my office".

5 hours later

Doc Johnson had finished the operation some two hours ago, yet he left me sitting on the medical bed so I could at least have some time to heal and for my body to adjust to the implants. He had stumbled upon one of the Rangers and told them to drag me to my bunk at the hotel and to have me in a constant rest for 4 more hours before I could move by myself.

After situating me in my bunk they went back to drinking at the local bar, The Malamute Saloon. That night I was gifted by some implacable dreams. They seemed familiar for the most part. That is until I saw something quite awkward. As I stood out in the wastes, surrounded by men wearing an assortment of leather and metal armors, a giant blue light began to shine from the sky. The light then crashed on top of the men, instantly disintegrating them.

The dream then flashed forward to show me meeting with an old woman wearing a blue jumpsuit under a leather jacket. She talked sweet, but she had a flame in her eye which showed the many things she did before becoming a leader.

As the lights around them flashed brighter, I was brought forward to something that seemed wrong. As I stood in this dark hallway, illuminated by a dark red light, a pre-war stasis bed then rose to reveal an old, grimy, pickled body. "No," a voice called. "You will doom the Mojave and the world". Two bullets then pierced it's skull. The barrel still smoked, as I looked down at my hands and saw they were covered in blood and oil.

The red flood lights then flashed blinding me and sending me forward again. This time I was brought to the site of an aging bald man wearing patchwork armor. The man was lying in his bed, IV in his arm, nasogastric intubation tube in his nostril, and Autodoc connected to his head. A blonde man wearing what looked like a lab coat patrolled the room and inspected the various medical instruments.

"You are my most favored Praetorian" the sickly looking man started. "Now go, you know what must be done". The scene then transitioned to me suffocating an NCR Ranger. After finishing the deed, I opened a rucksack and began to assemble a MSG 90 7.62 sniper rifle. Once constructed, I began to take aim and line up my sights. Through the scope I saw the back of a man's head. To the man's flank were two NCR Veteran Rangers. Deciding against taking out the Rangers, I pulled the trigger. The man's speech was immediately ended as the bullet pierced the back of his skull, spilling brain matter over the participants in the audience.

It then transitioned to me facing the NCR's most famed warrior, General Lee Oliver. "Surrender now son" Oliver said. His NCR Ranger escort brandishing their weapons; I knew no one would make it out alive.

As I stood there I looked my life over and realized all of the inhumane mistakes I've made. I then drew my Navy revolver and aimed at Oliver. The Rangers instantly opened fire, peppering my chest with rounds. My legs then contorted as I slowly began to drop to the floor.

I let the revolver drop from my twitching hands. I slumped to the ground as I felt the blood pour into my lungs. The blood rushed into every nook and cranny opened by the Ranger's rounds. I then fell back and began to look up into the amber colored sky. My vision dazed as I was greeted by the sight of Oliver shaking his head at him in disbelief. "Tag 'em and bag 'em boys".

My eyelids grew heavy as I watched Oliver pick up my revolver and stuff it into his waistband. They began to slowly droop down and shut as the Rangers grabbed me by my arms and legs. They carried my corpse off to the pile of dead bodies stacked next to a cliff. One of the Rangers tried to dose the bodies with kerosene, but realized there were too many. He grabbed the lighter he found off the new Legate's body. He stroke the metal against the flint and tossed the lighter onto the pile.

The NCR emblem embedded on the lighter burned away as the flames engulfed Clarke's body and the hundreds of Legion soldiers.


	3. Chapter 3 Prologue part 3

I rose from the bed as fast as I could just to end that nightmare. My chest was pounding like my heart was trying to rip itself from my body. I lifted my hand and placed it atop my chest. I felt my chest and realized it was bandaged. I then slowly traced my whole body and felt the bandages adorning it. My hand slowly reached my face and felt the bandages wrapped around my face. I couldn't see a damn thing.

I released a couple muffled shouts as I tried to call for help. "Whoa" a voice shouted. "You're finally up". I looked left and right trying to follow as to where the call originated from.

"Don't strain yourself; you're in our room". I began to slowly rest myself back onto my bed when I heard footsteps growing closer to me.

To signal I couldn't talk I began to rub the area around my lips. Whoever it was pulled the bandages apart to reveal my mouth. "Thanks," I started. "How long have I been out"?

The voice then pulled the bandages from one of my eyes so I could see. I was kinda brought back by the sight of a beautiful, kind face with a choppy fringe full of black hair with blue highlights. "You're a…" I stumbled. "A girl?" she finished, looking quite puzzled.

I slowly nodded my head as she seemed to face palm at my remark. "Didn't think they'd actually have me bunk with a woman" I stated hastily.

"And why would that be" she asked quite angrily. Trying as hard as I could I swallowed what little spit was in my mouth as I looked her up and down. "My families quite famous for being womanizers" I stated.

"Yeah right" she shouted. She went to the other side of the room and popped open the refrigerator inside our room. "Nuka" she asked. I nodded and she grabbed two bottles Nuka Cola.

"Name's Clarke" I began, reaching my hand forward to grab the Nuka bottle. She immediately forced her hand into mine and gave it a slow shake. "Eli Clarke" I finished.

"Names Noriko Tze" she replied back, finally giving me the pre-war soda. I pried the bottle cap off and guzzled down the drink. After wiping off my mouth, I handed her the bottle cap as a token of appreciation. "Thanks" she muttered, pocketing the wasteland currency.

Scratching some ungodly itch on some spot of the many bandages, "Well Noriko, do you happen to know when we head out for the NCR", I asked. She then reached into her coat and pulls out what looks like an old pocket watch and popped the top.

"We should be there in around 5-6 hours". I looked at her dumbfounded and just laid my head back down on my pillow. "I'm going to get some more rest" I started, fluffing my pillow. "Noriko, could you wake me when we get closer". "Just call me Nori" she said pocketing her watch. She then made her way out of the room.

"Hey" Noriko said, shaking me violently. "We'll be at NCR in about two hours". I groggily pushed her hands off me and started to get up. "Your gear is in the closet, left side" she stated, pointing it out. "Hey, could you uh, give me some privacy" I said, motioning to the bandages.

A smile grew on her face as she realized what I meant. "Yeah sure". She then proceeded to leave the room. I then went over to the closet, grabbed my gear, and tossed it onto the bed.

Picking at the bandages, I slowly began to unravel them from my body. After some ten minutes, I finally removed all of the bandages and began to admire my new body in the room's mirror. My normally shaggy "mop-top" hair was cut down to a "high and tight" fauxhawk. Instinctively, I ran my fingers through my hair. "Well at least now I won't have to visit a barber in NCR" I said.

Flexing in the mirror I realize how buff the implants made me. "Did I always have this many muscles" I asked myself. Opting against trying to remember, I proceed to go through the grueling process of putting back on my clothes. Deciding against wearing a crap load of holsters I just rested my leather Navy holster around my waist.

Looking myself over in the mirror I effectively make sure that I'm all geared and ready to go. I don my duster and place my hat atop my head and begin to head out to the mess hall stationed on the train.

Sitting in the room were the rest of the recruits and one of the Rangers. I quickly made my way to the food line, grabbed a tray and began to pile food onto it. "Hey look, its sleeping beauty" one of the recruits said.

Completely ignoring him, I continued to place food atop the tray. "What's wrong, all that sleeping fucked up your ears" the recruit shouted.

"Shut the fuck up Garret" the Ranger said. 'Well at least someone was on my side', I thought. I then brought my tray over to an empty table and began to eat the crappy food all NCR soldiers were accustomed to.

Then that's when "Garret" began to do the wrong thing and walk up to me. "What's wrong kid, got your ass handed to you" he asked. I merely gave him, _the look_, and went back to eating. "I asked you a question, boy" he said, practically spitting the word boy.

I looked at him and gave him the most "don't fuck with me" look I could administer. "Keep fucking with me and I'll make you eat those words, Garret" I shouted, spitting his name. Exactly what a meat-head like him would do in a situation like this, he rose from his seat and stared me down.

"You gonna back that up boy" he asked. I then pushed my food away and rose from my seat. I looked him up and down. I turn to see Nori walking in when I hear a piece of mass increasing velocity, pushing air particles aside.' Guess my new implants are kicking in'.

Before anyone could blink I turned and grabbed his fist. He looked at me dumbfounded as I tossed his fist aside and grabbed my tray. Before he could even react, the tray was connecting with his face.

He fell backwards on the deck. I jumped atop him and began to deliver blow after blow to his face. It took the Ranger, Nori, and two more recruits to get me off of him.

"Jesus Eli," Nori shouted ", you almost killed him". The Ranger, while carrying me off, injected some morphine or Med-X as most junkies knew it as, into my knuckles. "Shouldn't you be administering this into my blood stream" I asked him. "Have you seen your knuckles" he asked.

Sure enough, as I looked down at my fists I noticed my knuckles were ripped open and blood was beginning to gush out. Nori punctured a needle from a syringe into my hands. Hitting the plunger I felt the contents of the stimpak surge into my hands. She then helped me up and walked me to our room.

"What were you thinking" she asked, upon entering the room. I immediately headed to the medical pack I kept in my bag and grabbed the medical bandages. I stitched the wounds closed using a basic butterfly stitch then wrapped my knuckles with the bandages.

"Yes, Garret is a meathead, but you don't just beat the shit out of him, nearly killing him" she shouted. I then secured the bandages to my wrists and began to put the medical supplies back. "He should've listened to me" I merely stated.

Letting out a sort of sigh of relief, Nori sat down next to me and placed her face into her hands. Feeling her discomfort I wrapped my arm around her and embraced her into a hug. "Hey, hey" I said, to calm her. "I fucked up all right, I might be kicked out from the Ranger program, but I just want you to know you're a pretty cool chick" I finished.

I felt something soft touch my cheek when I turned to see her give me a peck on the cheek. She then buried her face into my chest as she began to cry. "I just don't want to lose another partner" she said in between cries. "You see every time I go out on patrol, my partner is always killed…"

**Let's see. There was that time when I was 12.**

When I heard the proximity alarm blaring, warning the entirety of the Shi colony of San Fran. I grabbed my Remington Model 7 sniper and rushed towards the courtyard. As I jogged to the courtyard I noticed the hordes of fire Geckos raided the front gates to our little section in the remains of Chinatown.

My neighbor at the time had ran into me and told me how we must protect our home from the filth of the wasteland. Me being the gullible girl I was back then believed him and tried to give my life to protect my home. That was Liu for you.

Too bad when he rushed into the fray he was burnt by one of the bastards then had his head bit off by one that was in a headlong charge.

**Then there was that time six years ago.**

It was my first night on patrol with the NCR. My squad and I were out patrolling the bridge to New Arroyo and all of a sudden we heard a low noise and a grunt. I turned to see my best friend, Chris, with a spear in his chest. That's when the enemy revealed their face.

A group of tribals had been pestering the Arroyians for a couple weeks now and I guess they chose this night to strike again. Chris and the rest of my squad died trying to protect New Arroyo and ya know what happened? The attack was brushed off when then Colonel Lee Oliver led a counter-attack force over the bridge and squashed the tribals into oblivion.

Do you know what it's like having to see your closest friends killed around you? Have you had to personally travel to every single one of your friend's parent's house and aware them that their little "Timmy" died protecting his government by some blood-thirsty savage? I didn't think so.

**And then there was that time 7 months ago**

It was my fifth day on scavenger duty. I jumped off the wrecked pickup truck I sat on and grabbed my MR-16A2 Service Rifle. As you may know customization is forbidden among the NCR army, I decided to go against the army by etching into the wooden receiver my kill count. 10 Muties, 16 slavers, and 32 raiders.

"Nori, stop ogling your rifle and get over here" my partner shouted. I shouldered my rifle and jogged up to my partner, lover, and all round best friend, Jinn Pratts. I remember asking him what the situation was and Jinn being the pragmatist, passed me the binoculars and began to chew on a piece of Bighorner jerky. I peered through the binoculars, or as I called them day vision goggles, and witnessed one of the most fucked up shit I have ever seen.

Huddled around some structure stood, what I could tell was, a group of tribals wearing patchwork armor. Perched on the makeshift telephone pole cross, was a raider crucified on it. The raider seemed as if he hadn't had a sip of water in weeks.

The tribals then began to stab the raider over and over with their makeshift machetes. They were torturing the raider for being some sick, twisted junky. Jinn, whose brother became one of those junkies couldn't handle the thought of that raider being his brother. He slapped a fresh mag into his rifle and taped the binoculars to the handrail of his weapon and began to peer through the improvised scope and open fire.

Round after round pierced the tribal's chest. Seeing all the damage Jinn was doing, I flipped off the safety and began to open fire. One by one the tribals fell by our fire. When they were all finished we replaced our mags and scoped the area out for any more tribals. It looked like it was all clear, so I jumped down the slope and slid my way down the hill. I jogged as I ran to the cross to see if the raider was all right.

The raider's eyes were a sickly grey as he looked at me. I still remember what he told me. "Please" he mumbled. "Kill me". I looked into his eyes and drew my Browning Hi-Power 9mm pistol and took aim. The raider then closed his eyes as I shot him once in the heart and once in the temple. I then searched the tribals to see if they had anything worth value to me...

Then that's when I heard it. To me it sounded like a man screaming at the top of his lungs while he was being ripped to shreds by a super mutant master. I ran up the hill and saw more of the tribals huddled over Jinn' crumpled form. I fired off a few shots their way and watched a couple of them drop to the ground. The ones that weren't killed began to either scramble off away from the scene or straight towards me.

I put the bastards down like the dogs they were. Once I finished them off I ran over to the sight that brought tears to my eyes. Jinn, who was hacked to near-death by their cleavers and machetes, lied on the floor, shaking from a never before seen fear. His eyes were just like the raider's, lifeless and grey. He seemed to swallow hard as he looked into my eyes.

I frantically tried to save him by injecting as many stimpaks as I could into him. I pressed the needle to a Med-X into his neck and hit the plunger. He twitched a little as the combined chems entered his system.

Then that's when it happened. His eyes stopped looking back and forth and just looked straight ahead, at what I could never tell. My eyes were filled with tears as I buried my face into his chest. I seemed to cry for hours until another patrol came looking for us.

"…and when they found me they helped me carry his body back to Nelson where he was shipped back to his parents over in Modoc" she finished. I held her in closer as I was hit by the sadness of this revelation. I knew she never would love again after having her love die in her arms. I just hoped from our time spent in Ranger training would curb those feelings and allow her to feel friendship or even companionship the way she used to feel it.

_Am I really growing intimate feelings for this woman I just met_, I thought.

I brushed that thought aside as I thought about what the DI's would do to us if we were found out. "Come on, let's get some sleep before we reach NCR" I told her.

With that she laid back onto my cot. "Thanks for listening" she whispered as she rested her head onto my lap. She quickly dozes off, but the rest of the ride I sat there thinking about that dream and what it meant.

I hadn't realized I had fallen asleep till I heard a loud knock on our door. "Yo, get up, we're here" a voice shouted. I quickly woke up and shook Nori awake. "We're here" I whispered into her ear. She seemed groggy and slow as she rose from my lap and began to grab her bags.

We all stood at attention, duffels draped over our backs. We were "wet noses" as some commissioned officers would call us. "Hello scumbags" the DI shouted.

"I am Master Gunnery Sergeant Tomas Sanchez, your senior drill instructor, and I will be forming you little NCR army scumbags into the meanest, most toughest sons uh bitches this side of the Colorado".

"For now on the only words that should come out of your mouth is 'yes, no, or sir'. Do you shit-stains understand me"?

In unison we all shouted, "Sir, yes, sir" in reply.

"Bullshit, say it like you've got a pair".

"SIR, YES, SIR".

"Good, now drop your shit and get to your bunks" he shouted.

After getting into our basic uniform, MGySgt Sanchez ran back into our room. "All right maggots, I want you guys to get ready for some PT (physical training)".

"Look at sarge, he's so goddamn ugly he must've fell out of the 'please, kill me' tree and hit every branch on the way down" Garret said, between bursts of laughter. The idiot shouldn't have done that. I'm guessing someone forgot to mention Sgt. Sanchez was one of the meanest SOBs the NCR had.

"WHO SAID THAT" Sanchez said running back and forth down the aisle. "WHO THE FUCK SAID THAT"

"WHO'S THE SLIMY, LITTLE TWINKLE-TOED SONNUVA BITCH WHO JUST SIGNED HIS OWN DEATH WARRANT" he asked. He looked at me, and then looked at Garret.

Instantly thinking it was me he rushed up to me and punched me square in the face. "WAS IT YOU, SHIT-HEAD" he asked. I rose from the ground and replied with a mere, 'sir, no, sir'.

"Bullshit, you either admit to spewing that shit from your mouth or you drop and give me 20". I dropped to the floor and proceeded to give him my push-ups. As I did my push-ups he would give a swift kick to the face. Once I reached 20 I got on my feet and looked at him, nose bloody and face all fucked up.

"What're you doing, when I say 20 I mean 20,000 you cluster-fuck" I looked at him and gulped heavily. Dropping to the floor again I began the long task of the rest of my 19,980 push-ups. Sanchez then turned towards Garret and rushed him. He tackled him off the ground and began to punch the bandages on his face and body that were placed on him from yours truly.

The cabin seemed to be filled with his screams of agony and pain. He then grabbed his broken nose and broke it even more. "IF YOU EVER, EVER SAY SOME SHIT LIKE THAT" he started. "I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU, YA KNOW WHAT GET UP YOU SHIT STAIN".

He lifted Garret up and pushed him out of the cabin. "START RUNNING, YOU'RE ON PT UNTIL I FUCKING SAY 'STOP'". He then kicked/pushed him in the ass towards the obstacle courses.

"Now, let's start a few exercises"

===2 months later===

We all sat at the firing range, firing our standard issue MR-16A1 Service Rifle as Sgt. Sanchez barked his usually orders at us. "I want you ladies to hit your targets spot on. Shoot like the devils whip was on your backs.

"Aim down your sights to increase accuracy"

The make-shift targets, three super mutants and six raiders, were peppered with the 5.56 rounds exiting the barrels of our guns. Once we finished off the targets he led us off to sidearm training, taught by Ranger Dobson.

We fired our Browning 9mms into the paper targets laid out on the range. "If your primary weapon is out of ammo, drop the fucker with your pistol".

"If your rifle couldn't down the sonnova bitch then your pistol should finish the job. If not then you use your bare-hands to get the job done"

"I want you to familiarize yourself with your weapon. You should know how many shots you can fire before it craps out on you".

Then he led us to the hand-to-hand training. He had us trained by one Ranger SGT. in the ring with sarge, we learned plenty of lessons like the 3D's. Detect, Defuse, and Destroy! She also drilled into our brains her personal law, ROAR. Recognize, Override, Attack, and Restrain. She told how if the person was a volatile target, we would need to detain him after.

She showed us the basics like Distract, Stun, Takedown, CQC, Submit, and Choke. All important moves and rules about unarmed combat, she told us.

Then we would spar for an hour, hit the showers, and then have some grub in the mess hall. After we'd be forced to disassemble then reassemble our MR-16A2s. Once that was done we'd be allowed to hit the hay.

We held that routine for two years, non-stop.


End file.
